


Farmers' Market

by SlytherinOwl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Apologies, F/M, Facebook: Hermione's Haven, Farmer's Market, First Impressions, Hermione's Haven Harvest 2019, Meet-Cute, Meeting Again, Pumpkin - Freeform, Pumpkin carving, Rare Pairings, st Ives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 06:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinOwl/pseuds/SlytherinOwl
Summary: Hermione meets Marcus in a most unexpected place. How will they react?Written for Hermione's Haven - Haven Harvest 2019
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Hermione Granger
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70
Collections: Hermione's Haven Harvest 2019





	Farmers' Market

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of love to my beta lilhawkeye3! Thank you so much for beating this. <3

If you asked Hermione Granger what drove her to visit a farmers’ market in the small Cornish village of St Ives, she’d shrug and tell you she wanted to enjoy the sunny yet crisp October weather before it settled into the unavoidable dreary, rainy November weather that would descend on them in a few short weeks.

The truth was far simpler: Hermione Granger was feeling particularly lonely this morning.

Rationally, she knew she wasn’t lonely in the classical sense– she had her friends after all. She spent a lot of time on her own by now, far more than she was typically used to, and sometimes not even Crookshanks’ company could fill the void of having no one around that she could talk to when she felt like it.

After having spent so much time on her own before Hogwarts, she had become accustomed to never being truly alone first with her dormitory and then on the run with Harry and Ron. Now, with Harry and Ginny moved in together and Ron rooming with George to help with the shop, Hermione woke up to an empty flat and went to bed in an empty flat.

Sometimes the silence was suffocating.

Thus her trip to Saint Ives: a town she had frequently visited with her parents when she was younger and they still remembered her. She couldn’t bring them with her anymore, but she could almost pretend they were beside her as before.

She walked up and down the row of market stalls until she arrived at one where the main product for sale seemed to be pumpkins of all shapes and sizes. Hallowe’en was rolling around next week; maybe she should decorate her flat a bit? Get herself in some kind of spooky mood?

Well, as spooky as Hallowe’en could be for a witch.

Nevertheless, it was a nice tradition and it reminded her of the decorations at Hogwarts – not that the Hallowe’en festivities had ended well even once while she was there. But still, she had always admired the decorations.

Hermione tried to decide which pumpkin she should get - or maybe even several? – when a giggle grabbed her attention.

She let her eyes wander a bit as she sought out the source of the laughter. Next to the stall was a small booth where children could learn how to properly carve pumpkins. According to the signage, they could either keep the pumpkin to take home with them or leave it at the booth to be admired by the public.

In the booth there were two children, a boy and a girl, sitting on the ground with a broad-shouldered, dark-haired man. The children thanked the man, got up, grabbed their pumpkins and skipped over to their parents who had patiently waited in the walkway for their offspring.

A smile tugged at Hermione’s lips as she watched the man gather the carving supplies and drop them in a small bucket.

Having already watched for longer than was strictly polite, she was about to turn away when he began to get up. It took longer to stand than she would have guessed was normal, as one of his legs apparently was stiff and giving him trouble – and then he turned around.

A small voice in Hermione’s head reminded her that staring was rude, but she couldn’t make herself look away from his piercing gaze.

But then again, he didn’t look away either.

It took a moment for her to find her voice again. “Flint?” She asked incredulously.

“Granger,” he replied tonelessly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Working.” He seemed to have gathered himself again as he shifted his attention from her to continue putting the carving supplies away.

“At a muggle farmers’ market?” Her eyebrows rose questioningly.

“Yes.” His voice was rough. He didn’t sound pleased.

“Carving pumpkins with children?” She asked her next question because she couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Yes. I am working here, at a muggle farmers’ market, carving pumpkins with children. Now, if you’ve seen enough, leave.” With that he fully turned away, signalling he was finished with their talk.

Hermione was so surprised that she’d seen him, and in this village of all places, for once she did as she was told and left.

* * *

When she was in her lonely flat that night, lying on her bed and thinking about the day, her thoughts of course went back to Marcus Flint.

Now that surprise wasn’t clouding her brain, she thought of the impression he’d made. He was still as huge and imposing as she remembered him from school. His teeth did seem a lot nicer, but then so did hers. Magic was wonderful that way.

His right leg had given him trouble when he got up from the ground. Was that an old injury?

Her last memory of him was during his second attempt at completing his seventh year. She didn’t see him during the Battle of Hogwarts, nor during any of the trials which followed. And there had been plenty.

But... he wasn’t a Death Eater, was he? At least not as far as Hermione had known. And she had been quite rude to him today. With a frustrated groan, she shoved a pillow over her face.

She would have to apologise.

* * *

That was how Hermione found herself in St Ives a week after her last visit. The farmers’ market was on again and she had an apology to make. She made her way over to where she had seen him last week, her steps sure but her hands nervously working at the strap of her handbag.

When she arrived, she didn’t see him at first as the booth was seemingly empty. Then she leaned over and she was finally able to see him sitting on the ground again, where he had been carving pumpkins with the kids last week.

“Marcus?” She asked hesitantly, knowing he’d probably not want to talk to her.

His back went stiff, and when he turned around, his steel grey eyes fixed on her.

“Granger.”

“I wanted to apologise for my reaction last week. I didn’t expect to see you here, and I let things that are long past cloud my mind. I am sorry for offending you.” She rushed the words out.

Marcus still stared at her with his piercing gaze as he began the process of standing up. His leg was obviously still troubling him, something that was noticeable due to how he favoured the other one and his slight flinch indicating his pain.

“Thank you. It’s okay though, your reaction was better than most.” He admitted, although unhappily.

“If I’m not overstepping – why do you work here? I genuinely didn’t expect to see you here. Not because of who you are or which house you belonged to, but because I would have expected to see you work in Diagon Alley or the likes.” She did her best to make her voice sound perfectly neutral.

Marcus was quiet for a while. His eyes flicked from Hermione to the surrounding stalls and then back to Hermione.

“It is difficult to work in our world when you have the background I have,” he muttered.When Hermione wrinkled her eyebrows in question, he elaborated.“I was a Slytherin. A well known one, too. My parents were sympathisers of the Dark Lord. Not Death Eaters, mind you, and yet both were killed before I even left Hogwarts.” His eyes flicked away again.

“My one talent was Quidditch. I tried to make a career in it, but then the war happened... I can’t walk or fly properly anymore and no one wants to hire someone who took two turns to get even a single NEWT. Adding my questionable position in the war – and everyone hesitates to hire me.” His voice sounded resigned.

She didn’t know what to say. “I– I am really sorry, Marcus.”

He shrugged. “It’s alright. I have gotten used to this, and I actually enjoy it. And the people I work with usually don’t know me, which definitely makes for a nicer time.” His smile was slightly pained.

Still at a loss for words, Hermione nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

After a quick, uncomfortable farewell, Hermione left Marcus to his own devices.

* * *

She had come back to apologise to him.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had assumed things about him, questioned his lifestyle or even insulted him and then afterwards apologised for doing so. It probably hadn’t happened before – at least not to him.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough for a small smile to play around his lips for the rest of the day.

* * *

The next weekend and the next farmers’ market rolled around. And Hermione Granger showed up at his booth again.

This time she asked him all kinds of questions – what did he do in his spare time? Did he like dogs? What’s the fondest memory he has? Was he allergic to anything?

It had been a strange day.

* * *

The next week came, and with it came November. Pumpkins were less in demand now, but Hermione still came to visit his booth again.

The crafting he did with the children was always a lot of fun, and he loved teaching them how they could carve the best pumpkins in their neighbourhood.

Hermione seemed to enjoy watching him work, especially with the children, and when no one was around they spoke a lot about life, work, friends, everything and nothing.

* * *

Marcus knew his last week at the market for the year was fast approaching. With December not being too far off, people wouldn’t buy any more pumpkins. He’d pack up for the winter and be back in the spring with different products.

But before he did...

Hermione appeared at his booth again. Marcus hid a smile.

“Hello Marcus! How are you today?” She asked pleasantly.

“I’m doing fine. Just have to finish this one, important order.” He confided, before returning his full concentration to the pumpkin. Hermione watched him work in silence for a few more minutes, his back turned in her direction.

Then he was finished. He slowly stood, picking the pumpkin off the ground as he did.

“Hermione, I’ve got a question for you.”

Hermione looked confused. “Uh, yes?”

He handed her the pumpkin in response.

On the front of it, the words “Will you go out with me?” were carved with unbelievable precision in a beautiful lettering.

Hermione was silent for a moment.

Marcus stood nervously in front of her, even though he tried to hide it.

A smile broke out on Hermione’s face. “Of course!” She exclaimed.

Marcus was about to answer her with a smile, when suddenly Hermione rose to her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“May I?” He asked when she had pulled away and was looking at him again, his eyes fixed on her lips.

“Yes, please.” Hermione answered breathlessly.

Marcus put one of his hands into Hermione’s hair as the other snaked around her waist, pulling her closer. Hermione’s free hand went to the back of Marcus’ head, and the other held onto the pumpkin protectively.

* * *

For the rest of her life, Hermione was ridiculously fond of every farmers’ market she came across.

As was Marcus, who visited each and every one with her.


End file.
